Stolen Closure
by Aisling.Aberdyfi
Summary: Castiel is left devastated at the news of Dean's death, and returns to pay his respects. What he finds is the worst thing he could have ever imagined...(post season nine)


_"It was all about saving one human, right?"_

__

_"Well guess what...he's dead too."_

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><p>Castiel prepared to enter Dean's room. It'd long since been just a Men of Letters bunk room, for Dean had made it his home. Although Dean was not the neatest of it's inhabitants, Castiel knew that deep in Dean's heart all he yearned for was to feel at home. Home was a strange concept for the angel. For a long time, he was taught the word Home was synonymous with Heaven, but that was when Heaven was all he'd known. Over time, Dean had come to show Castiel the true meaning of Home. It was family, comfort, and...love. Love was another concept Castiel had yet to understand. The ebb and flow of human emotion was difficult for even the humans to understand, let alone an angel attempting to decipher them. Dean's actions towards him did indicate a certain affection, although Castiel had learned to not take these things on face value. Dean was his friend, his brother-in-arms, nothing more. Anything else would be deemed...inappropriate.<p>

However, none of that mattered anymore. Not when Castiel had lost all that had meant anything to him. Dean was his family, and that was all he had. He'd given up everything; his army, his celestial family, his faith, even his life for Dean. And now Dean's life was over. Snuffed out like a candle that had just begun to burn again. His body would become dust, blown away by the winds of time.

Castiel prepared himself for the sorrow of seeing Dean's lifeless body, empty, a shell of the man he once was. The body he rebuilt from the ground up, atom by atom, cell by cell, lovingly bound together by the essence of Castiel's being. Now devastated by Metatron's angel blade. Swallowing, Castiel cast his eyes towards Dean's bed. But there was nothing there. He was jolted into panic, a million scenarios crossing his mind at once.

"Hey, Angel."

Castiel's blood ran cold. Turning slowly, hands clenched tightly, his eyes roamed the room, finding their way to the figure leaning lazily against the door frame.

"Wondered when you'd flutter your way down here." His eyes flicked up to meet Castiel's, and they were cold, empty... and black. Thick tar had replaced the once green eyes Castiel had loved to stare into. It was then that Castiel was exposed to Dean's true face.

His demonic face. It was twisted, burnt and broken, obscuring the soul that had once lain beautiful beneath it. It appeared to be screaming in agony and smirking at the same time - not a shard of the person he once was remained.

Castiel stumbled backwards, horrified, blinking in confusion. Nothing could've prepared him for this. The utter horror of seeing the soul he'd saved turn into this...it was unimaginable.

Playfully, the demon that used to be Dean advanced towards Castiel. A smirk played on its lips as it outrageously invaded Castiel's space. Where Dean used to feel warm when pressed against him, burning hot almost, this thing...it felt dead and cold.

Hot, angry tears pricked in Castiel's eyes as he met the demon's. It's eyes seemed to be undressing him and imagining his sweet murder simultaneously, lazily tracing Castiel's face. Skin crawling, he swallowed uneasily.

"Dean-" he started weakly, before the demon grasped Castiel's wrist, slamming him violently against the wall of the bedroom. Tutting, Dean leaned in close.

"Not so fast, Angel." he murmured, fingers tightening around Castiel's wrist. Castiel's cheeks burned, tears threatening to fall down his face. He searched for anything, a shred of humanity in the demon's twisted soul, a fragment of the bright light he'd once saved.

"Don't get all hot and bothered now, Cas...it's just little old Dean" he growled with an animalistic sneer, inhaling Castiel's scent.

"You. Are. Nothing. Like. Dean." Castiel hissed, pushing back against the demon's hold. "I know Dean Winchester, and there is nothing left of him on this earth." He glanced at Dean - no - the demon's face. Castiel flinched.

"Not anymore."

Castiel looked up at Dean through his eyelashes, pained resignation evident on his worn face. It leant in, his lips dangerously close to Castiel's ear. He felt every breath against his skin, flinching at the sudden almost-contact.

"That is your problem, Cas...you have no faith." Dean whispered, breaths rasping against Castiel's skin. The angel squeezed his eyes tight shut, recoiling away from the body he'd once welcomed.

When Castiel finally brought himself to open his eyes, Dean had gone, and the damned sensation of his touch was merely a ghost on his skin.

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**A/N: Thank you so much to Izzy, my lovely beta! Follow her at .com!**

**Please review and tell me what you think :)**


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